


A Non-Love Song From Santa Fe

by certifiedgarbage



Series: A Newsies Love/Non-Love Song [2]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, and he's pining for a relationship that he ended, crutchie's tired of jack's shit, jack and crutchie actually left for santa fe at the end, jack's a romantically confused man, meanwhile davey's in france of all places, mentions of hanschen from sa because i ship hernst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11915544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedgarbage/pseuds/certifiedgarbage
Summary: Jack's in his dreamland Santa Fe and yet, he can't get that boy Davey Jacobs out of his head. All he has left are memories but he doesn't want them.





	A Non-Love Song From Santa Fe

**Author's Note:**

> Mkay I have noticed many typos while rereading after publication so fuck my life/writing. If you notice any I missed, please tell me :)

**_Back, back, it’s time to go back to you know where but was it fun in the sun where you were?_ **

Jack found himself at the same spot on the floor as he had been for the last couple weeks with a paint-covered brush in his hand, stroking the canvas with a dash of pale blue to bring the sky to life, barely even breathing all the while as his mind drifting off to Europe. He stepped back and let the paint fumes waft into him. Paris. Jack had painted Paris again, this time with the Eiffel Tower making its stand in front of a young man’s silhouette with slim shoulders and tousled hair.

He let out a frustrated sigh. It was his third painting that week and once again, he had painted  _him_. 

He had painted Davey( _get out get out gET OUT OF MY HEad_ ). Jack slammed his head onto his easel, shoving the painting onto the floor as if doing so could rip all the thoughts and oh so beautiful memories of them together. It had been days ever since the boy- no, they were men now, they had grown up- had shown up in his paintings, weeks since the letter arrived for him and Crutchie from Paris to New Mexico, months since the Les wrote to them that the elder Jacobs had left, years since Davey had actually left for Europe.

Was Davey happy? Jack didn’t know ( _of course he wouldn’t_ ). The other boy ( _no no no he grew up, he moved on_ ) had written about a German boy named Hanschen in his letters. Platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin ( _everything that Jack wasn’t_ ). Wealthy parents, un-calloused hands worthy of grasping Davey’s, a brain to match the dark-haired Jacobs ( _everything that Jack never could have_ ).

_**Stop, no, no you’re not allowed to think that, unwire the good, don’t imagine what could have been; just a memory now** _

_A cold yet comforting hand guiding him through the familiar streets of New York. Stifled giggles on rooftops ready to touch the stars. A wave of force knocking into him and being embraced like he was somehow the only thing left in the world-_  “Jack!”

The dark-haired boy jumped. He turned around to see Crutchie mask a frown of a worry with a tight-lipped smile. “You thinkin’ about Davey?” he asked tentatively.

“What? What, no! No I ain’t!” Jack tossed the unfinished on the floor underneath his bed. “Jacobs haven’t entered my mind in weeks! Nah, I’s just…just thinkin’ about New York and how much I love being here instead of there!” he retorted, a a guarded tone in his voice. 

“Well I never knew New York had it’s own version of the Eiffel Tower”, Crutchie sat down on the bed and pulled out the slightly damaged paintings, “I’m sure that I would’ve noticed if we had a giant metal triangle in the middle of the city.” He placed the most recent one into Jack’s outstretched hands, the paint still drying as he raised a maternal eyebrow. “Spill, Jackie. I don’t want you pining your life away.”

**_You fool, how dare you trust fate? She’s not that kind_ **

Jack didn’t respond, his eyes flitting around the room, stubbornly refusing to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

“You love him, don’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question because that’s what it was: a fact.

“I don’t love him, Crutch. I don’t.”

“But you  _loved_  him.” Crutchie placed a firm hand onto Jack’s shoulder and looked firmly at his brother. Jack always took care of him when he was in doubt; it was his turn to care of the young painter now. “And he loved you. So what happened?”

Jack gruffly shoved Crutchie’s hand off of him. “I took a leap of faith without looking when we tried to make it work”, he said coldly. “Turns out that it was a leap off of a fucking mountain.” He grabbed a nearby paintbrush and jammed it into a small jar of black paint, dragging the brush bristles across the painting in his hands. It was ruined now. Davey’s silhouette was now a mere black blur on the canvas along with the rest of the Parisian streets he had drawn. “He’s just a memory now.”

**_Just a memory now_ **

“Jack…” Crutchie sighed, biting his lips in search of the right words to say. “You lov-”

“Save me the lecture. We were never meant to be.  _He_ ’s in France.  _He_ ’s gone.  _He_ ’s just a memory.” Jack tossed the painting into a scrap pile of French-styled pieces he had done after Davey’s letter arrived. 

“But-”

“He’s just a memory now.” Jack repeated to himself under his breath, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. Maybe, just maybe, if he tried hard enough the memories would go away.  _Davey_  would go away.

Just a memory now ( _unruly, black hair hidden neatly tucked underneath a cap_ ).

Just a memory now ( _brilliant blue eyes flashing against his head_ ). 

Just a memory now ( ** _an unforgettable boy named Davey Jacobs_** ).

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of a crappy series that I wrote within 2 hours so if you got any tips to make my writing magically less shitty, hmu. If you want, please leave some kudos or comments because I am emotionally needy and crave validation at all times but regardless, DFTBA :)


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